


Overcast

by lady_attano



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_attano/pseuds/lady_attano
Summary: Sombra stumbles onto an apartment that belongs to Widowmaker, then gets caught halfway through rifling through it. Maybe getting caught isn't such a bad thing...
Relationships: Sombra | Olivia Colomar/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Kudos: 11
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Overcast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheYearOfTheWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYearOfTheWolf/gifts).



It's a dim, cold little apartment, lacking in personal touches. An automaton could live here. Or a ghost.

Olivia opens a cabinet to inspect the dishes neatly stacked inside. White porcelain, no embellishments. Clear glasses. Simple silverware when she opens a drawer, the next one filled with folded hand towels. It's painfully, rigidly in order, a controlled space for a stiff, broken machine.

"Can't escape them even here, huh?" she murmurs, shutting the drawer.

The afternoon light leaks in, murky and grey, stormclouds threatening on the horizon. As she moves towards a locked cabinet, the door clicks, and in an instant, she's cloaked. If she doesn't move, she might go unnoticed long enough to slip away.

Amelíe walks in with a bag of groceries, the door swinging shut behind her. In a raincoat, with a smearing of foundation to turn her blue skin a sickly pale instead, she looks... well, mostly she looks like a fake thing, a doll jerking through the motions as she takes her sunglasses off, sets the bag on the counter, and sweeps her golden gaze across the room. Seconds pass as she stands there, keys held in black-gloved fingers, her chest only occasionally lifting with too-slow breaths. Olivia fidgets, then stops herself, fingers itching to grab her teleporter, and still Amelíe doesn't move.

Her cloak won't last that long. She makes the decision in a moment, dropping back into sight and spreading her arms wide. "Surprise! Did you miss me?"

Amelíe doesn't blink. But her shoulders slump ever so slightly, her mannequin strings cut as tension bleeds from a frame that has never relaxed. Very interesting, that.

"The annoyance," she says, voice cool as she finally turns away to pull the makings of dinner out. Even this is done with a measured, robotic grace.

"I have a name," Olivia reminds her. "Sombra. We work together, you know. It can't be that hard to remember a simple _name_."

"I will remember your name when you make yourself worth remembering."

"Rude." Olivia drifts back into the kitchen, peering over Amelíe's shoulder at whatever it is she is making. Something simple, though it's a revelation that the woman eats, considering every other modification made to turn her into the perfect clockwork soldier. 

But, and this is the thing Olivia finds so intriguing, the clockwork soldier still moves after her spring has wound down again. 

Take this apartment, for instance. _Not_ a Talon safehouse, and not one that has shown up in her files from Talon's database. If Amelíe has shared its location with anyone, they have been smart enough to keep silent on it. The only reason why Olivia found it was luck--luck, and a healthy heaping of paranoia, leading her to stalk Amelíe the moment she'd realized the assassin was in this cumbrously large city. Now, what could a doll want with a space of her own?

Someplace other than the chalet. Very interesting indeed.

"You're still here," Amelíe says coldly a few minutes later, when ignoring Olivia hasn't driven her away. "Why?"

"Is it a crime to watch a beautiful woman make dinner?" Olivia asks, careless with most of her mind ticking away at the puzzle Amelíe represents. For so long, she'd been certain that the Widowmaker would fall in line with orders no matter what; the apartment makes her doubt, and the doubt makes her want to chase the thread of mystery down.

Carelessness is carelessness. Olivia is too slow to react when Amelíe abruptly lashes out, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her to a wall. Her fingers, Olivia notes past the spark of alarm that zings through her, are almost as cold as the countertop just out of reach. 

"Tell me why you're _here_ ," Amelíe hisses, putting lie to every report that Talon had killed her emotions dead. The puzzle gains another layer.

"I see you hiding in a secret base and I want to see inside," Olivia wheezes, her palm brushing the teleporter that is always within reach. "The mannequin has cut her strings--wouldn't you want to see why? Is that so hard to believe?"

"From you?" Amelíe's voice is contemptuous. Ruder still. It would be easy enough to disappear across the room, escape out the door, and forget this mess. A doll without orders can still be dangerous. A gun without a hand holding it can still misfire.

But where would be the fun in that?

"What about this?" Olivia asks, grabbing the front of Amelíe's jacket and dragging her close. Before the woman can react, Olivia's lips are there, the cold press of fingers around her throat mirror to the cold brush of Amelíe's mouth against her own.

Strange. Thrilling. And a second later, Amelíe kisses back, fierce and furious all at once. She is so _angry_ , and the anger is as fascinating as every other part of the puzzle Olivia has discovered here.

They break apart seconds later, Olivia breathing hard past the cage around her neck while Amelíe barely breathes at all. But there is something that almost looks astonishment in those gold eyes. Despite everything, Talon's clockwork soldier has a fleshy heart buried under all that cracked porcelain. 

"If you feed me, I might tell you why I'm here," Olivia offers into the silence, making no move to escape.

After a moment, Amelíe releases her, then turns back to cutting up vegetables. She offers no promises, nor any reassurances, but she does say, "You will have to slice the bread yourself. You're lucky I have enough for two."

Triumphantly, Olivia does so. She can investigate the rest of the apartment at a later date, when she won't be discovered. There's a far more interesting lock to be undone in front of her, and now she has a key.

And what a prize to be won when she finally unlocks it.


End file.
